I have been thinking more about using this blog, not only as a place to share current happenings, but as an outlet and method of sharing favorite stories of my past and childhood as well. I've been thinking about the kind of stories that I would love to have from my grandparents and parents, and that leads me directly to the stories of my own that I don't want to lose before I remember to share them with Sophia.
Since I have started letting my mind focus in this direction, two very interesting things have happened. First, it has become much easier to come up with a memory or a story than it was before. Maybe you know how it is. Often for me, life in the moment becomes all that occupies my mind. As that happens, the past - distant or recent - becomes harder to put my fingers on. The stories are normally on the tip of my brain if I could just stretch my fingers far enough to grab a few. It turns out that quite a few of them are stored within reach of one another. I don't know another way to describe it, but it's been a surprise to me. Now just to get a few down.
The other thing that is even more interesting is that as I think back about things from my own childhood, I feel ever more present in Sophia's. Perhaps allowing myself to truly stop and remember what it feels like to be a kid has brought some of the "kidness" back. When I was younger, I looked forward to being a parent and having permission to play freely and be a kid again with my own family. That tends to get lost in the foray of everyday motherhood, but I feel like I may have regained a shadow of my childish self.
So I'll start this off with a small but mighty one. One of my favorite "run-of-the-mill" memories is of sitting on the floor of my room in Creve Couer, IL, in my dad's lap as he read my The Little Engine That Could. This was one of my favorites because it came with all the actions and sound effects of a real train. I still get a smile when I think about begging my dad to read it with me - "the right way."